On A Night Like This
by DeadManSeven
Summary: A small piece of protest against all of the yaoi work here...


The characters, locations and situations below do not belong to me. They are the   
  
property of Squaresoft, and I'm using them for no intent of financial gain.  
  
I warn you now, if you don't care a fig about my views as a writer and a reader, skip   
  
the next paragraph and start reading.  
  
I have read my last yaoi fic. I really have. I can't stand them any more. It's not that   
  
they're poorly-written. If I wanted to see that, I'd head to the Pokemon section. It's   
  
not that the plots are always badly constructed. If I wanted that, I'd look no further   
  
than a teenage girl writing a Backstreet Boys self-insert. It is the pairing of two   
  
characters in a way that often has no explanation, no reason, and no point. (Which is   
  
actually part of the basis of the Japanese acronym yaoi, so perhaps I've got it all   
  
wrong and they're emulating the style perfectly...but I digress.) And then to add the   
  
insults to the injuries, the author and their many fans will continuously claim that the   
  
couple of their pairing were so meant for each other. I'm sorry to have hogged the   
  
soapbox in my introduction (and I don't blame you if you've skipped my rantings or   
  
cautiously hit the `Back' button on your browser), but this really is something I want   
  
to see stopped. I know I can't do much in that area, but, like the lone writer of a   
  
good Digimon lemon, I will prevail in trying to fashion a diamond in the desert sands.  
  
The following piece of work contains elements of yuri (female/female relationship)   
  
writing. If you are offended by this, I suggest you discontinue reading. If you wish to   
  
flame me, feel free to do so. I don't personally agree with the pairing I have created,   
  
and am only using it as an artistic tool to prove a point.  
  
  
  
  
  
On A Night Like This - Derek Zischke  
  
  
  
  
  
`That's _it!_ We're through, Irvine Kinneas!'  
  
The words of the young girl echoed through the halls of the Balamb dormitories,   
  
loudly punctuated by the slamming of Irvine's door.  
  
`But...but Sephie...' Irvine started, emerging from behind the door, pleading to his   
  
very angry girlfriend and a collection of Seeds-in-training who had been alerted by   
  
the noise.  
  
`Don't Sephie _me!_' Selphie snapped, spinning on her heel and bearing down on   
  
Irvine. `I don't want you calling me that any more! You can give your stupid   
  
endearments to all the other girls in Balamb, but not to me! From now on, you're   
  
Irvine, and I'm Selphie! Okay?'  
  
The last wave of her verbal attack lost force as Selphie had to choke back the   
  
beginning of a flow of tears. Various people in the crowd of students would talk the   
  
next day about the shocked look on his face, having trouble believing that Selphie   
  
could never have been anything but bright and cheery. Before Irvine could say   
  
anything back, she ran through the crowd of students, her hands rushed to cover   
  
her face.  
  
Tension hung in the air still, broken by Irvine giving his statement to the crowd.   
  
`What are you all waiting for? Show's over, folks,' he said with a blank expression on   
  
his face, as he returned, broken, to his dorm.  
  
  
  
Even though the Garden Master NORG's control of Garden had been abolished, and   
  
the Disciplinary Committee was a mess after Fujin and Raijin had left, Cid still   
  
managed to enforce most of the rules they had left behind, thanks to a team of   
  
dedicated students who were willing to act in their absence. However, with the rules   
  
still in place, the exceptions to these rules remained constant also, such as the `No   
  
students out after dark' rule, and the exception of the Training Centre. This was the   
  
place Selphie ran to out of desperation for nowhere else to go.  
  
It was approaching times for exams in Balamb Garden, and so the number of people   
  
who frequented the `Secret Area' had practically dwindled to nothing while they   
  
spent their time fretting about their tests. Selphie was given one small part of good   
  
luck that night; the only other person in the Training Centre was Quistis. She had   
  
spoken to Cid the night of the celebration about regaining her Instructor's Licence,   
  
and although Cid had been more than happy to agree, Quistis would still have to   
  
pass both the Instructor's Written and Field exams again.  
  
And so it was that she faced herself looking for a Grat to practise her skills on, late at   
  
night, alone in the Training Centre, when Selphie came running in, her cheeks   
  
flushed with blood and moist with tears, and head past Quistis and straight to the   
  
small alcove known as the Secret Area.  
  
Anyone, even Squall, would have followed out of concern.  
  
  
  
The dim glow of the lights from the heart of Balamb Garden cast hazy shadows in   
  
the small safe haven in the Training Centre. Unlike almost all of the other times   
  
Quistis had entered it, as a student, a SeeD and an Instructor, it was empty...that is,   
  
apart from the crying girl who was bunched up nearby one of the walls. Selphie had   
  
her legs pulled up close to her chest, with her face buried in her knees, her   
  
breathing rapid and jagged and peppered with short sobs.  
  
`Selphie...?' Quistis asked hesitantly.  
  
`Go away,' came the quiet reply.  
  
Quistis stood for a moment, not coming closer, but not leaving either. After Selphie   
  
realised that she wasn't being left alone, she lifted her head to lock eyes with Quistis   
  
(which, she noted, were an blurry red), and asked her again, `Please?'  
  
Quistis now walked over to Selphie, ducked down next to her, and waited. Selphie,   
  
who was used to this practise from teachers and other figures of authority,   
  
eventually surrendered her information to the ex-Instructor.  
  
`It was Irvine,' she said, lowering her head back into her knees.  
  
`I knew.' Quistis sat down beside Selphie, watching her as she slowly raised her head   
  
and looked back.  
  
`Then why did you want be to say it?'  
  
Quistis took a deep breath. `Selphie...we all knew this would have happened   
  
eventually. Irvine just doesn't...doesn't care about you.'  
  
`Yes he does! He tells me all the time...'  
  
`And how often does he tell all the other girls?'  
  
Selphie was silent for a second, perhaps trying to think of a response, perhaps   
  
letting Quistis' words sink in, and then she started crying again. Quistis, in a gesture   
  
to make up for saying the things that she had to say, placed her arm around   
  
Selphie's shoulders, cradling and comforting her. She could feel her small frame   
  
shuddering against her side with every breath Selphie took.  
  
`Shh...you'll be alright...' Quistis said softly, comforting Selphie and trying to subdue   
  
her tears. She held tighter onto her, and Quistis could feel the tears on her shoulder   
  
as Selphie leaned on her for both physical and emotional support.  
  
When her tears had finally tapered off, Selphie looked at Quistis again, her cheeks   
  
stained with liquid. Quistis used her free hand to brush away the tears still lying in   
  
the base of Selphie's eyes, brushed them off gently with the tip of her finger. Selphie   
  
sniffed, looking more alone and lost than anyone Quistis had ever seen. She had   
  
always questioned how people could act so irrationally when it came to matters of   
  
the heart, like the wife who's husband abuses her but still says she loves him, but   
  
now, looking at Selphie, who simultaneously hated and loved Irvine, she was   
  
beginning to understand a little of it. Her decision to break it off with Irvine had hurt   
  
her deeply, and it was at that moment, looking into Selphie's tear-filled eyes, that an   
  
impulse was sparked inside of her.  
  
Quistis leaned in close to Selphie, close enough to feel her short sharp breathing,   
  
and pressed her lips to the young girl's. She held the kiss for a moment, and brushed   
  
her hand across Selphie's cheek softly, before drawing back.  
  
`Be strong...okay? You'll be alright?' Quistis asked.  
  
Selphie nodded, weakly.  
  
`Do you want me to walk you to your dorm? You look like you could use it.'  
  
She shook her head, a little more force going into her motion this time, and said in a   
  
voice little over a whisper, `I'll be fine.'  
  
Quistis got to her feet and offered Selphie her hands to help her up. Selphie took   
  
them, and uttered a brief thankyou. Quistis and Selphie then walked back to   
  
Selphie's dorm together, despite Selphie's refusal of the offer. When they reached   
  
the door, Selphie opened it and walked inside, giving little hint that she thought   
  
Quistis was even there. Shutting the door for her as Selphie disappeared into the   
  
darkness of her dorm, Quistis wasn't surprised.  
  
  
  
_She kissed me...  
  
Why?  
  
I don't know.  
  
She's not supposed to do that...  
  
I know...but you know things like that happen.  
  
...  
  
Why did she kiss me?  
  
...I don't know.  
  
I need to know._  
  
  
  
`...Quistis?'  
  
`Mmm? Who's there?'  
  
`It's me...Selphie...'  
  
`Selphie...?'  
  
Quistis fumbled for the lamp that sat beside her bed, switching it on and noticing the   
  
readout on her clock as she did so.  
  
`My God...do you have any idea what time it is?'  
  
Selphie ignored her question, and sat down at the foot of Quistis' bed. She looked   
  
solidly at the floor, and said without moving her head, `I wanted to ask you   
  
something.'  
  
`Ask away,' she replied, the traces of sleep still showing in her voice, as she propped   
  
herself up in her bed and reached for her glasses. Selphie hesitated for a moment,   
  
scuffing her feet over each other, until taking a breath and urging herself to speak   
  
by clenching a fist.  
  
`Why...why did you...?' Selphie tried to ask, at a loss for words.  
  
`It was all I could think of,' Quistis replied simply.  
  
`What?' Selphie changed her focus from the floor to Quistis, thrown by the   
  
unexpected answer.  
  
`You just told your chauvinistic boyfriend what he could do with his attitude. Anyone   
  
in your situation would need emotional support.'  
  
`But, but, but...why...a kiss?'  
  
`Because you're alone right now.' A little part of that hurt returned to Selphie's eyes   
  
at her words. Quistis urged herself on to say the final thing she had been thinking.  
  
`And I don't want you to be.'  
  
Selphie's gaze retuned to the floor, before she spoke again after a long moment of   
  
silence.  
  
`Quistis...can I say here tonight?'  
  
Quistis looked at her for a second, and answered, `Of course.'  
  
Selphie scrunched her way up the bed, and lay beside Quistis. Quistis hadn't   
  
expected her to act like that, but then she quickly asked herself where else she   
  
thought Selphie would sleep for the remaining hours of the night. She reached over   
  
her to shut off the light, and lay in the bed, quiet for a few moments.  
  
`Quistis...?' Selphie asked, her body tensing a little.  
  
`Yes?' she replied, concerned.  
  
`Could you...hold me? Just for tonight?'  
  
Although she gave no verbal confirmation, Selphie felt arms encompass her, and   
  
hold her tight in comfort. For one second she was able to believe it was Irvine   
  
holding her, and things were the way they were two hours ago...and then reality   
  
came back to her.  
  
But even knowing the truth, she was still calmed.  
  
`Thank you,' she whispered to the night.  
  
  
  
  
  
I would like to thank my pre-readers, both online and in real life, especially my   
  
hardest and harshest critic Cheryl (besides myself, of course), Tarlia, who's views on   
  
yaoi fiction spurred me to write this, and Apollo and Apocalypse Deke, who managed   
  
to show me exactly how not to write women (`Men! You're all the same!').  
  
  
  
  
  
Zischke In The Jar Productions (c), 2000-11-21  
  
deadmanseven@optushome.com.au  
  
http://members.optusnet.com.au/~lox18/Index.htm  
  
  
  
`Do you suffer from long-term memory loss? I can't remember...'  
  
-Chumbawamba  



End file.
